#fear blurbs

[crsssie]

down the neck - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff, glancing through the scope at the unsub.

"Well, I have to lay low too, no?" Spencer frowns.

"It doesn't matter." You squint, humming. "Hit the button and ask Hotch if I can shoot. Be fast."

"Hotch, we have a clear shot."

"I have a clear shot."

"Snippy—"

"Fire."

You click your tongue, pulling the trigger once to hit the unsub's hand and a second to snipe the gun out of range as Morgan flies into the place. You watch through the scope as Spencer looks through the binoculars, and you only start to sit up when you see Morgan pull the unsub out. Then, you actually sit up and start packing up.

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff.

"You weren't complaining when I—"

You hold a finger to your lips, pointing at your earpiece as Spencer blinks, laughing when you hear a cough in your ears from Hotch.

"Sorry."

"Need I remind you both of—"

"Nope." You puff out your cheeks, slinging the gun around to your back as Spencer raises a brow. "Actually, I think Reid needs a quick reminder. He'd love to go through another HR meeting about how we shouldn't be fraternizing with—"

"We're good, Hotch." Spencer cuts you off, rolling his eyes at you. "We'll see you back at the station."

"You're driving." You mumble, turning off your mic. "Two dollars and I'll drive. Four dollars and I'll make a stop at McDonalds."

"And for five?"

"I'll sneak in a kiss plus everything else."

"I think that can be arranged." He hums, pulling out a five as you press your lips to his, tongue swiping over your bottom lips as he chases when you pull away. You stick your tongue out teasingly as you take the five, craning your neck so that his lips would hit your neck instead. "Hey."

"I'll drop a ten if you—"

"Reid."

You laugh as Spencer jolts straight, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of Hotch.

"Turn off your mic next time."

"Roger that, sir."

You're too busy laughing the rest of the way back to be able to drive. (but spencer has no complaints when you hand him back the five with a chaste kiss to his lips).

[stellamarielu]

summary: cock warming with joel late at night when you’re both craving each other, all tired and cozy underneath the sheets.

author’s note: not entirely sure what this is but i wrote it because joel miller lives rent free inside my brain

beware smut ahead! mdni!

it would start with your body all cuddled into his, your back against his chest with his arm draped over your waist.

you were slowly coaxed out of your peaceful slumber by the feeling of joel's thumb rubbing small circles into the skin of your stomach. your shirt had bunched up exposing your midriff and allowing him to slide his hand underneath the material.

you’d scoot back just an inch so that your bodies were pressed even closer together, your backside making contact with the bulge in his pants. you made it a point to grind against him, savoring the sounds of his shallow breath and the way his body melted even further into yours.

in a lazy sleep induced haze the two of you would be shedding clothes and relishing in the warmth of each other; flesh pressing against flesh as joel lined himself up with your center. no words were spoken yet you both understood the shared desperation in your actions, needing to be close, enveloped in one another.

the only sound coming from either of you was the groan slipping past joel’s lips as he felt the slick warm invitation of your walls while he stretched you with just his tip. he was slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch with his hand cradled around your body holding you gently against him.

you let out a blissful hum when he filled you completely, the sound of your satisfaction muffled by your pillow.

he stayed there– pushed into you to the hilt and holding you tightly, your body fitting snuggly into his.

he took a minute to soak in the tenderness of the moment; how soft you felt pressed against him. the intimacy of being wrapped up in each other. all of it was so comforting it had him pushing himself deeper into you, hungry to be closer.

"what happened to a good night's rest?" your voice was groggy, filled with sleep and pleasure.

you were reminiscing on joel’s words spoken just hours ago when the two of you were winding down for the night. both of you exhausted, seeking the comfort of your shared bed and full night of sleep.

"you can go back to sleep sweetheart." he was leaning further into you as he whispered the words, placing a soft kiss behind your ear.

"just wanted to be close that's all." his voice vibrated into the crook of your neck with his face buried in your shoulder.

"don't think i’m gonna be able to sleep now." you were confessing as your hand slid up to find his hair, running your fingers through it and causing a sigh to escape from his lips.

it was as if you were half asleep but unable to deny the solace of connection. you were completely devoted to one another, wholly seized by the comfort and desire constantly shared between you.

"that right?" his voice had a tired rasp to it, the low gravely sound causing you to involuntarily clench around him.

the way you were hugging his cock had his grip on your waist tightening just enough to pull you back further, sinking himself even deeper into you. the sensation had a whimper bubbling in your throat and your fingers curling into his hair.

"need somethin' to help you sleep?" another rhetorical question rolled off his tongue as he finally moved inside of you. the slow gratification of his thrusts more fulfilling than any amount of sleep.

[sleyu]

in regards to perv!marauders . . . theyd so get off on the more innocent pics of you— it could be a polaroid of you smiling and it’d be covered in cum by the end of the summer bcos your innocence is so hot to them

i am losing my mind at the thought of this. the mere thought of corrupting you torments perv!marauders and something about the contrast of their filth paired with your seemingly pure disposition makes their cock throb.

the photo usually always comprises you beaming, presumably looking up at them through the camera, batting your eyelashes prettily, looking so radiant and cute. i can picture a photo of you leaning against their palm, their large hands caressing your cheek while you peer up at them. maybe it’s that sleepy look of yours; maybe it’s your flushed face or your puffy, watery eyes; or perhaps it’s the gloss on your lips that makes you look so girly and kissable that has them groaning into their pillow as they fist their aching cock late into the night, feverish and frantic to cum to the sight of you.

it's not only your innocence that gets them off, but it's the thought of ruining it that drives them to the edge. all of them would repeatedly fantasize about making you just as desperate as they are for you. they want nothing more than for you to look up at them—a betrayed, foggy look in your lust-filled eyes—begging them to take you again because three rounds simply aren’t enough and you're far too addicted to their cocks stretching out your ruined cunt to stop.

[ruinix]

I’ve hit you over the head with the breeding kink bat today, but I’m coming back around.

Quinn would be such a feral little fuck about it. He’d taunt you with everything he was doing. Wouldn’t be hiding from the fact that he’s trying to baby trap you. Making a big deal about how you’re stuck there. How much cum he’s fucking into you.

He’d tell you exactly where you are in your cycle. How he’s been counting, tracking. How long he’s been wanting to have you restrained under him.

All his to breed-

I might uh, be a bit off my head today

Hello. Dark content ahead

Hello, 911 ☎️ I would like to report a murder. Yes, it's this one. I saw her hit someone with a bat. She also just came back to hit that someone AGAIN. I just saw it. Oh, yes, didn't say that? It is I who got murdered. I am merely a ghost now, I fear. 👻 I must avenge myself. 🫠🤧

TW/CW: 18+, MDNI, Baby-trapping / Breeding Kink (use protection, lovelies. do not let anyone baby-trap you when you're not ready), Non-con/Dub-con, Overstimulation and mention of future use of restraints

Whore thoughts. Smut. Dark. Baby trapping = Breeding kink. Same thing in my whore of a brain ⬇️

Quinn could only chuckle about how easily he got you used to submitting to him and being tied up, how easily he got you used to the stretch of your thighs being spread so widely and raised up until you're almost folded in half, how easily he makes you lose yourself as he fucks into you harder. He would fuck you dumb, propping your hips with two pillows until you are gushing around him. So fucking clueless on what would happen next.

He already played long game of earning every bit of your trust. For every week he fucked you with condoms after you told him you had to get off of your birth control, every week that he had to pretend that he is still sane while he takes notes when your cycle start, when it end, when you're ovulating. Oh, it fucking irked him how much cum he wasted, how much time have passed because you still have the freedom to leave him.

He can't have that.

You're not allowed to fucking leave at any point in the present or future.

While Quinn is harshly fucking your pussy, his fingers digging into the back of your thighs, he would derrangely stare at you as your thighs shook, as your body arched from the bed, as his sweat drips over your skin and mixing with yours, as your lips begged him for a break. He would always give you a break, but not now.

However, he would pull away, grinning at how you sag, your eyes showing both relief and betrayal, because he knew exactly how close you were. So fucking greedy when you already came exactly six times when he hasn't.

That's when he would slap your pussy with his cock, making you gasp and writhe, making you recoil at the sight of the broken condom.

"Quinn, you need to change--"

He would cut you off with a darker laugh, leaning back and sitting on his ankles as he combed back his hair, staring at you with a manic look in his eyes. He was gone.

"Now, why would I do that?" He asked. "Why would I waste my cum when you're a couple of days away from ovulating? You're so fertile now, so I will fuck you until it takes, my Love."

He tore off the pathetic remains of latex, sinking his tip into your pussy, chuckling at how you were sucking him in. So fucking greedy. All while you still tried to move back, to escape.

Not like you were going anywhere. Not when you're tied to the bedframe that's bolted into the floor. Nowhere to go for you.

He would be absolutely feral with his harsh thrusts, his heart pounding at every plea and every tear, because he feels exactly how much you clench around him like you don't want him to slip out. He won't.

He would slap his palm over your thighs, over your sensitive clit, until you were coming and making a mess then he would slam into you, spurting his hot cum so deeply that you were looking at him with both fear and awe.

He knew it. You wanted his baby as much as he does. You just need to face the inevitability of it happening soon.

Not letting himself get soft, he would languidly thrust into your pussy, gritting at how his cum drips around him. Angry at the waste but he still has more to give you, so whatever. He hissed when your hips pathetically and successfully meeting his thrust.

That set him off to another frenzy, ignoring his own sensitivity. Ignoring your fresh set of tears. Ignoring the dark spots dancing on his vision.

Quinn has plans. He already got a chain that would be long enough for you to get to the rest room, an ankle shackle that is lined with soft cotton and fur that you won't get any friction burns, oils to soothe your aches when he actually needs to rest. It would be just for this week. He would be more vanilla after. He would try, at least.

Right now, he wouldn't stop.

He would fuck you until your pussy's too full that you would be dripping cum for hours or days. Until your pussy is red and raw and so utterly fucked. Until you finally reach the exact day of your ovulation. Until the next fucking day because he will not lose any fucking chance of you getting pregnant.

Because he needs you to stay with him. Forever.

In his mind, his and your baby would seal your fate with him.

Your Honor, I didn't do anything. I swear! I am the one who got killed. Two hits to my head! Oops. Good night.

-> more thoughts? Dark List.

[melodiesz]

Shooting practice with Jason ⭑

( -_•)︻デ═一 pow ! ✮⋆˙

“are you even trying?” He asks with an unimpressed look. When you continue to fumble with the gun (possibly on purpose), he groans and takes matters into his own hands.

“No- here, like this.” He grabs your hands and positions them on the pistol, adjusting your fingers and correcting the way you held your arms out with clear experience.

He nudged your legs into proper position, grabbing your waist and guiding you to a slight angle.

It was an innocent action but your face is burning. When you try to take the shot again all you can think of is the lingering feeling of his scarred hands on your waist and you miss completely, hands shaking far too much to hit a proper shot.

You frown in embarrassment at being so easily distracted, but before you can think on it too much he comes up behind you, placing his hands over yours and raising your arms. His face is close enough that you can hear his warm voice right next to your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Come on, keep trying. I know you can do it,” he encourages with a smile. He’s just being a helpful friend, trying to teach you how to properly defend yourself, and here you are thinking of how good he sounds humming encouragements into your ear.

You’re glad he’s behind you so he can’t spot how red your face is turning. You take a second to prepare yourself or you just want to feel his hands on yours a little longer and with a deep breath you take the shot, hitting the target dead centre.

His grin widens. “See? you’re a natural!” He boasts dramatically and steps back, and your expression dips at the loss of contact. “now try it without my help,” he asks.

You get back into proper stance and aim perfectly, stance corrected and shoulders back, but when the moment comes, you miss again, mind utterly clouded.

He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t be this bad,” he jokes. “something got you distracted?” He steps to face you now and immediately notices your flushed expression.

He may be a little dense when it comes to romantics, but he’s not an idiot. Rather than tease you he just smiles reassuringly and covers your hand in his again, reaching his left one to rest softly on your waist.

He’s pressed against your back now and you want to squeal at the way his body basically covers yours completely. He rests his chin on your shoulder, eyeing you calmly like you weren’t on the brink of imploding. His voice is soft, like a whisper in your ear when he urges, “do it for me, yeah?”

And you do, abiding without a second thought and pressing down on the trigger. The hand on your waist is trailing down to your hip and tracing patterns on it, like he was trying to distract you. Yet somehow, you manage to make a good shot.

You’re still red in the face when just like that he backs away, smiling innocently again like nothing happened. You gawk at him and he just laughs and walks away, throwing out a quick: “told you.”

[rotapathetic]

DAVID MCCALL ♰ right turn ྀ

david knowing how to get to your place without asking ㅤ⁝ㅤ⋰

he was already parked in front of your school by the time you walked out of the doors. huh. right on time. you hugged your friends a see you later, one of your guy friends playfully shoving you. you shook your head, giggling. walking up to david’s car, you saw how tense his jaw was set. you frowned, getting in the passenger seat.

“you alright? what’s wrong?” but david wasn’t looking at you, rather over your shoulder to your friends. it clicked for you, “um . . that’s just one of my friends. we joke like that, he didn’t hurt me.”

david shrugged, “hurt you or not, he touched you. that hurts me,” a feeling of warmth spread through you at his words. what david didn’t say aloud is that him hurting your friend would complete the circle.

“it’s fine, really. just kinda wanna go home . . tired,” you changed the subject. you and david hadn’t been dating long, this whole relationship thing new to you. so new you didn’t think to give david directions.

“how was your day?” you sparked up conversation. you weren’t sure yet what he does in his spare time. the things he likes to do, his interests, “hung with my friends, watched a film, then sat here watching for you.”

you giggled, “waiting, you mean? there’s nothing to watch out here,” you were sure he misused his words. but he didn’t, david watched over you more times than you knew. lurking, making sure you weren’t in danger. it was why he wasn’t there on time, but there for a while.

when he didn’t respond, you went quiet, looking out of the window. he made two more turns when you realized you hadn’t told him your address. you went to tell him then, but then the streets started to look familiar.

“oh, i didn’t give you directions . . i know this street, it’s the one right up my place . . ” your words trailed off as david pulled up to your front door.

that’s normal right? for a boyfriend to know where you live? you didn’t know how he found out, but it had to be normal, “that’s funny, how’d you know where i stay? were you watching me?” you attempted a joke at his previous words.

when david slowly turned to you, the humor you felt dissipated, replaced with something else, “if i told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

you were caught off guard by his words, nervously giggling, “i guess i wouldn’t, huh?” david didn’t respond.

“well um . . thanks for the ride. i’ll see you?” you went to leave the car when david grabbed your head, pulling you in for a kiss. you gasped, not expecting the aggression. he pulled away, staring at you for a moment, “you won’t, i will,” he smirked.

you realized the joke quickly, smiling. him watching you was now an ongoing joke between you two, you thought. only funny for one of you.

[houseofpsychoticwomxn]

♱ 18+ smut !! ♱

thinking about smoking with simon while u ride him ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ

♱⋰ ⋱✮ he’s convinced he’s corrupted you, turned you into some ‘cockdrunk stoner’, shaking his head at your insistent whines in his annoyingly clothed lap.

“you can’t get what you want all the fuckin’ time.” he griped, stilling your hips that seemed to have a mind of their own. of course he was a hypocrite, still-lit blunt gripped between his fingers pressing into your sides.

“why not?” you pouted, using the hands planted on his chest to lift yourself up and back down again, intent on torturing him just as much as he was you. he could be mean — deny you completely just so you’d really beg him for it, even make you get yourself off on his thigh without any help while he watches, but he couldn’t deny the effect you had on him; currently prevalent in his tightening jeans. he took another drag before grabbing your jaw, exhaling warm smoke into your mouth as your eyes closed.

soon enough you’re grinding on his dick — just lazily rocking your hips while he watches you. you take the blunt from his hand before he gets ash all over the couch, turning it towards him after tapping it against the glass tray on the table next to you, holding it for him so he can keep his hands gripped tight on your waist. your pace only gets more lax as you get higher, a loud smack to your ass reopening your eyes for you.

“c’mon ride it like you mean it. attagirl.”

˚₊‧꒰𓆩 ♱ 𓆪꒱ ‧₊˚

[puckinghischier]

celebrating quinn tonight back home in michigan with sweet, soft sex. him muttering “i love yous” in your ear, you repeating them and telling him how proud of him you are

you were surprised when he wanted to go slow tonight, despite how high energy the game was and how riled up he seemed. but the second you tried to speed things up, begging him to go harder and faster, he shushed you and kept his slow, agonizing pace.

“wanna take m’time with you tonight, sweet girl. savor you for as long as i can,” he whispers in your ear, his slow, languid thrusts making you squirm.

he’s torturing you in the best way, driving you further into blissed out oblivion with each drag of his cock in and out of you. “whatever you want, q. so proud of you. did so good, played so well tonight,” you sigh out, pushing his solid body further into yours.

the praises make his dick twitch, causing his pace to falter only slightly before finding his slow rhythm again. “love you so much, y’know that?” his lips drag slowly across your ear.

“love you too, quinn. so much. always. love you almost as much as i am proud of you. my record breaking captain,” you throw in the title for good measure, sneakily trying to get your way.

he groans lowly right into your ear, biting down onto your shoulder. “so, so, so proud,” you repeat, feeling his resolve slipping.

“not gonna work, m’enjoying this too much,” he grits out, willing himself to slow down once again. “nice try though, still love you. love you enough to reward you all night long after this,” he chuckles into your ear, sliding his hand up your arm to intertwine your fingers above your head as your breath hitches, moaning at the endless possibilities.

[funger-rips]

Fear and Hunger: Termina - Ending Graphic (Full train and Backgrounds + Sprites)

Details about this rip are below cut.

The version train background used in this post is a specific variant of the background that is only partly found in the files. See below for the other versions found in the files.

"train.rpgmvp", which is found in the "battlebacks2" folder. It is used as the background for fights in the train. (left)

"train_ending.rpgmvp", which is found in the "pictures" folder. It is used as the background in the ending graphic, as seen above the cut. (middle)

"train - Copy.rpgmvp", which is found in the "battlebacks2" folder. It is a slightly shifted version of train.rpgmvp, though only in the black border area. I am unsure where this is used in-game, if anywhere. (right)

Also to note, the background image used above the cut is slightly revised. You may notice the subtle but sizeable brown coloring in the bottom left of the images below the cut, where Henryk and Abella would stand. For some reason, this coloring is only visible in the ending graphic sometimes, but not always.

I am not sure what triggers either version, though both variants are visible in-game. The version without the brown coloring is not specifically present in the files, implying that some sort of effect or a secondary image is overlaid on top (speculation).

For the sake of appeal, I have posted the "cleaner" version without the brown coloring above the cut. All the images below the cut are uncropped and unedited from the files.

The sprites of the individual characters are also unedited and exactly from the files.

(Thanks for reading if you actually got this far!)

[fearyandear]

This is the project I've been working on in the side 👉 👈 Still in its conceptualization stages for now but I thought I might as well put it out there

Welcome to Proved Loveless in Death

An Interactive Tumblr Poll game where you choose who's your favorite... and who dies <3

Basic Idea: You are the poor victim of the Court of Fey, targeted with a spell called 'Rose Tint' that makes you able to see choices and decide on what path fate will take in the name of madness and love.

I'll post snippets of backstory and character designs and then write chapters of the story with a poll in the end of updates every once in a while, having votes for how things will proceed. Scuffles and ultimatums, life and death. You've made quite a lot of boys devoted to you throughout your life. Now, years later, see how far the fay's corruption and lovesickness twists their actions through this game.

TW for horror with gore, maiming, psychological abuse, gaslighting, and dub/noncon.

You are trapped having to see the sweet memories and friendships you shared turn into red splatters of blood. The versions of them you remembered, marred forever by how sick and twisted they became as soon as your friends realized this was a competition. You are the prize.

Whoever comes out of it will be your fated lover, and own your heart whole-y (along with getting some compensation from the Fey for the good show of course).

Choose wisely.

Short Profiles and Concept Art of the Friends You've Gathered Throughout the Years:

Cassius (5-10): Violent, protective, entitled.

You were next door neighbors as kids. He played pranks on you at first but would get mad at others and hit them if they tried to do the same. Although you thought he hated you because of how mean he was sometimes, he would not stop hanging around you instead of going home.

After you heard yelling and shattering from his home, you'd let him slip inside your house in secret too. You really became his security blanket, and he eased up on the teasing. But he'd be mean again if you ever tried partnering with anyone other than him.

When you had to move, he bullied you into promising you'd marry him. You eventually relented as you saw him cry for the first time. He's taken this oath way too much to heart and has been doing his best to become someone reliable and strong for you.

Even years later, he can't stay interested in anyone because of how strongly he clings to the fantasy of you. That his goal has only ever been to become someone you could be proud of. He feels like it's a betrayal to let you go.

So he starts chasing after your trail.

Ami (10-13): Girly, manipulative, spoiled.

You came to his school as he was getting retribution for bullying his classmates. He had been snide, unsympathetic, and cruel to them, toying with everyone's emotions. Finally, his classmates snapped, and he found out how powerless he could be against a mod. He started getting bullied himself. He had been so sure the adults would help, but there was no response from his teachers, and his parents never noticed. He felt alone for the first time in his life.

He was at his lowest, accepting his fate, and you saved him without having context to the full story. You became his his knight in shining armor; the person that proved to him again that he had value. He clung to you.

With new resolve, he rebuilt himself. He regained his confidence, and began living two-facedly, as he promised himself you'd never know about his mean side. He kept finding ways to shut anyone who tried talking to you about his past... then, because of his overzealousness, he threatened ANYONE who even tried befriending you too.

He couldn't trust them with you. You were *his*friend; his person to play with, spoil and adore... Up until you had to move far away. Again.

He was distraught and tried so hard to convince you to run away, to hide in his house. He'd take care of you! Of course, you couldn't. It was just a dumb, kiddish fantasy. But even now, years later, as his life went on without you, he keeps revisiting the possibility whenever he misses you.

He's made an enemy out of everyone. No one else has treated him as kindly and as sincerely as you. No one is meant for him like you are. He can't let you go.

He just can't.

Ragnar (13-16): Depressed, asocial, cold.

His mom passed away and his dad moved them to another state. He fell into a deep depression and started having bad, bad thoughts. You were both new to school.

You clung to him because of this; after relying so much on only Ami previously, you were so unsure of how to make friends again that you were terrified. Ragnar was initially disgusted being smothered with attention, he just wanted to be left alone and not care about anything. It was sad, but your classmates started seeing you both in negative ways, and it furthered a divide between you both and them. All the more reason for him him to feel overwhelmed by you. You and your manner of being probing, kind, funny, and so... persistent. He thought he hated you.

But then you got sick and had to miss a few days of school. Getting his wish, being alone all school day and at home, Ragnar realized it was the opposite. He'd unfortunately gotten attached to you.

And he was looking forward to seeing you again.

When you came back, to your shock, he slowly started clinging back. e kept making up reasons as to why in his head. You came to him first anyways, so this much attention was fine, right? And... making sure you weren't be allowed to get close to anyone else was also okay... because it's not like anyone would be able to understand you the way he does.

He began monopolizing you. Everyone in the school was such a fake, you needed someone loyal to look out for you. That could only be him. He was always by your side, ready to give you anything and to keep everyone away. Slipping up on his undiscovered true emotions and telling you at random sometimes, poetic stuff about how much you mean to him and how you two were made to make each other happy.

He was always sweet to you.

When you told him you had to move again, he took it really hard, as if you were the one deciding to leave him. You'd made him want to live again and just took that hope away. He became cold and detached the following weeks, it made you both depressed up until your last day when he was finally to the point of breaking down. He ran to your house, knocked, and hugged you tightly, crying. He didn't say anything as he handed you an envelope and ran away. It said 'Don’t open until we meet again.' You've been obedient.

He knows it's stupid but... he still clings to you as the light in his life that he needs to get back. His life is yours, and yours is his.

Varrik (16-18): Top student, smart, diligent.

You met him in the later years of highschool as all the pressure put on him being on top was beginning to make him break his charming persona. After moving so much, you'd become tired of trying to keep friendships and were settling into being a loner. But, you caught him having an anxiety attack in an empty classroom and helped calm him down.

Because you were new, Varrik let his guard down and felt like he could open up for the first time in years. You didn’t have a preconceived idea of him. You didn't care. It was freeing. After he was done, you tried giving him reassurance, but he lied about being busy and fled the room. Embarassment caught up to him, but when nothing came of his vent session, he started to relax again.

And the prospect of talking to you started to excite him. Ever since, he'd keep an eye on you, and sometimes, when he caught you alone afterschool, he'd linger just a bit around you, hoping you'd find some reason to talk to him. You fell right into your curiosity everytime and would ask him how he felt. Getting to talk to you in private like that would make his day.

It meant the world to him to be able to have someone understand him. In return, he realized your grades could be better and decided for himself to help you by hosting a lot of study (date) sessions. Also in private.

He knew how much of a loner you were, and that talking to him during school could open you up to other friendships... but he liked things as they were already. You were always available and a little expectant about you activities with him. It was cute.

He tried keeping your meetings a secret for thsoe years, but eventually, someone noticed. To combat this, he readily convinced them that he was set up by teachers to be your tutor in private because you had poor behavior that had to be monitored. He made a convincing story about the real reason you never socialized and always kept to yourself. No one doubted someone as reputable and kind as him.

He got his wish. No one else talked to you, and honestly, you couldn't be bothered to realize what had gone on. Now he never had to worry... but just to be safe, he started moving these (dates) sessions to other places. Like cafes, libraries, the park, his home... You were so close outside of school... even hanging out during the breaks. Giving gifts in secret. He was so happy... he wanted to stay that way.

Come senior year, he had a plan. He'd push you to go to the same, elite college as him. He really did his best to monopolize your time and energy into it with extra tutoring, volunteering, and scholarship hunting. He was picturing a future that HAD include you.

Finally, letters were sent and… You weren't accepted.

He was.

It broke his heart more than it did yours. He-He had to go, he couldn't just… not. His parents, his efforts, it'd all have been in vain otherwise. But he hated leaving you behind and felt wrecked with guilt. You did your best to console him. He pretended it worked.

As you waited with him in the airport, you thought about how what a weird twist of fate it was to be the one seeing their friend off now. You hugged him and reassured him you could meet up again sometime. But with how intense his program would be, you both know that was likely impossible. The last call for his flight rang and he had to let you go. You handed him one last gift before you left him. He opened it when he sat in his seat. It was a little keychain with a small photo of the both of you. He couldn't take his eye off it the whole ride.

He still has it, and stares at it when he needs to feel something again.

Ludovic (18-21): Domestic, dependable, protective.

Roomies assigned when both your actual roommates dipped at the last second.

Ludovic started off terrible. He was in a shitty friend group that he'd followed into college just to party. He thought you were a stick in the mud and would intentionally get on your nerves a lot. He was the worst during the first semester, and you planned to ditch him as soon as housing gave you the clear.

But, after staying late studying for semester finals, as you were going back to your dorm on your car, you saw Vic being dragged away by two people. As you get closer it looked shadier and shadier.

You stopped the car and told them you were his roommate. You tried to appear friendly as you told them you'd take him back to your shared dorm. They refused, until you recognized one of them (someone Vic had brought over before) and you called her name. That makes her nervous and their bravado broke. They loaded him in the passenger seat and walked away.

He was definitely, unusually out of it.

He was a mess as you drove back home. He puked on your car. And while going up the elevator. And in your room. You had to help him change and he finally he realized who you are. He started crying about how he knew he was a shitty person, and you didn't deserve putting up with him. He was really starting to blabber about how he knew his life was spiraling with his clique, but that he felt helpless. He had no motivation to change.

It made you pause your initial opinions of him and reevaluate him. You were up all night checking on him and thinking about it as he's passed out. You couldn't help doze off after a while... and woke up feeling like you were watched. You turned around and saw him looking at you. Really looking at you. He didn't say anything, and turned around in his bed. You thought he was embarrassed and let him be, going back to your slumber.

Things changed a lot after that. He dropped his friend group, he became a bit more serious about his degree, he cleaned up after himself and... he valued you a lot more.

He had an epiphany after going through that; that he had to make better life choices. He needed more dependable people around him. Like you. He really wanted to make it up to you. A year later, he has gotten very involved in your life.

Once a week, he'd treat you to something you like, walk you to your classes when possible, and inadvertently memorize your schedule, friends, preferences, quirks.

He'd go above and beyond for you, even taking up extra chores and learning to cook things you liked in the communal kitchen. You felt guilty, like you weren't worth all this attention, but he always told you honestly that he just wanted to work on himself. And part of that was by becoming a good roommate to you. That quelled most arguments.

He's still a bit of an asshole sometimes; he likes to tease you a lot because of your inexperience to a lot of things, but he's never mean. You can finally say you're fond of him, and even look up to him for helping you whenever you were in trouble.

Meanwhile, as time went on and he had more introspection, Vic comes to terms with knowing that.. he loves you. But he's afraid. He can't trust himself anymore. He can't trust his judgment on what's right and wrong. On if he's really a good person or just pretending to be so that he can stay close to you. Against better judgement, his thoughts and urges slip into fantasies that aren't... healthy. It's a vicious cycle that feeds into his guilt, wanting to make up for it by doing something special for you, you give him a compliment that gets to his head and makes him think of more. He can't help it.

Another year, and another. Everything is great. Stuff gets lost and he makes fun of you for it. You binge watch shows and always try to eat together. Other friends you make start to drift away, but he remains your constant.

He'd follow you anywhere... it gets so domestic, anyone would mistake you for a couple already! But unfortunately, that last line is never crossed...

It's time for you to graduate. Because of certain mistakes and a lack of concentration in his classes, he isn't able to join your year. This is it. He'd been spiraling over through all of your final semester. You were leaving him.

He helps you pack, hiding the dread he feels, like his life was slipping away. He had to say something, to confess... Or... did he? Could you do long distance? Would you consider waiting for an idiot like him, still stuck in school?

He didn't want to burden you... after everything was loaded into your car, you both wavered. He joked that this wouldn't be the last of him. Next time you need a roomie, he'll zip right over. You laughed and told him you'd take him in a heartbeat.

In a heartbeat.

You drive off and he's alone, trying to tell himself he can always sneak back into your life. He's gonna graduate. He'll go after you. And even if you're in a relationship, married, or just uninterested, he'll find a way to convince you you two were perfect, and he'd claim you.

He just has to wait.

Xander (21-24): Socially awkward, weakwilled, obsessive.

A tall, gawky, nerdy guy who joined the company you work at the same time as you.

Both of you were given the same assignments so you could help each other out. Xander was super flighty, nervous and stuttered a lot when you first met him, but with you were persistent. You'd take over the reigns when he couldn't, you gently tried making him feel comfortable when he was anxious, and you encouraged him when he did things right. You were a good, sweet coworker, and the man was starstruck, feeling blessed to even be in your presence when he was such a.. screw up.

The reason for Xander's awkwardness was attributed in part, because of his fearful and overbearing parents. He was home-schooled his whole life, kept to the house and taught schooling the 'proper' way. He was told meeting kids his age would only dumb him down, and yet, he felt like he was drowning under his parent's expectations anyways. He was never as good as they wanted.

Finally, he was allowed, at least, to escape to college. He was so nervous and excited. He tried so hard, too hard, to socialize... and found out very quickly that people did not like his ticks. The people in his class thought he was annoying, and he could never get the courage to talk to anyone outside of what was mandatory. Making friends was... too hard. He was hopeless without the tools to express himself well. In the end, he couldn't make any genuine connections up until he graduated.

His dreams of being happy were crushed. He was kicked from his parent's home and felt dread, believing work would be the same kind of hell in a different form.

How lucky he was, that you were there.

You, patient, kind, funny and cool. You, who seek him out even when you're not paired up, who wants to hang out with him for lunch, and doesn't shame him when he makes a social mistake. You're the first person he can call a friend. He's ecstatic and way too overeager... subtly, without realizing at first, he's even building a shrine to you in his head.

Which slowly became into an... actual shrine.

Obsessive. He can't help himself. Overanalyzing the things you talk about, looking for ways to feel closer to you, getting into all the things you're into so you can talk about it at work, stealing your lunch when no one is around and offering his own when you cant find it, soon even coincidentally moving somewhere closer and suggesting carpooling to save on gas. It's all pretty obvious if you weren't so trustful. It's not like anyone cares, no one bats an eye. Xander can get away with it all... for now. The long looks, the extra shifts, random (offerings) gifts in your desk and his constant, looming presence.

You're perfect. There is no one else in Xander's world but you.

[ruinix]

hi i’m just here to drop in and mention how bad Quinn wants to leave marks on your body. he doesn’t care where or how he just needs to see him on you at all times ya know?

Halloo, love, my lovely moot😚. I’m sorry it took me long. I blame my two braincells. They got distracted. [Also... i totally didnt try to repost this (i did, but it didnt happen...😭 sorry)] Here it is...ummm.... i think i have veered off in a different path. Sorry...🧎🏻‍♀️

One. Two. Three.

CW/TW: 18+ MDNI, Smut or smut(ish), Sloppy kisses and Marking, Slightest bit of choking, Quinn being a love sick fool 🙂‍↔️

Count: 1449 words | Masterlist

One. Two. Three. Hmmm, that’s not right. Quinn swears he left you four marks on your neck…Why the fuck are you bundled up after all the hard work he did?

He could feel his irritation bubble up his throat, but he swallows it down—crossing his arms, eyebrows drawn—as he tracks your movement across the apartment. You’re doing miscellaneous cleaning, dusting here and there, dancing along with whatever music blasting in your headphones.

You look cute, really. Pretty and cozy in your matching sweatpants and your crewneck sweater. The colors are soft and makes your skin glow. The fit is oversized. You demanded that size when you got him to buy it—he bought five sets for you, because you rarely request something. You are even wearing your comfy and grippy socks. Adorable, really. Really—Fuck. What the fuck? Are you covering him—his marks—up? Didn’t you say you love them last night?

Before he could spiral, you finally notice him. Whatever complaints he has disintegrated to nothing. Your smile with the twinkle in your eyes takes his breath away. When you squeal and run towards him, his arms instantly drop, spreading to give in your hug. You smell like fresh laundry. Home. You smell like home. His home.

Quinn melts into your touch, head dipping where your neck and shoulders meet. His eyes dart from one mark after the other. Where is the other one?

 “Quinn, you’re home! How’s your day? How’s practice?” you ramble on, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“All good. I had fun,” he murmurs, slightly parting from you. “How’s yours?”

You happily recount your day—cleaning, work, watching a show, taking a good and satisfying bath. Quinn guesses that this day is for a nonlinear storytelling, which he has no complaints about. He could get lost in your voice, that’s like the soft patters of rain, like the soft breeze in summer, like the rustle of leaves, like soft chirps of birds. Your voice is like every calming tune of nature. Soothing. Nurturing. That’s what you do to his soul.

Mix that with how firmly your arms are wrapped around his torso, hands slipping into his shirt. They smoothen over his muscles, tracing his spine, causing shivers to run down his fucking soul. Oh, the effect you have on him, but that doesn’t appease him as it usually does. Not one bit—fine, maybe just slightly—because where the fuck is it?

While you talk about a grocery list, Quinn carefully rubs your arms and your shoulders. When he thumbs the column of your neck, you instantly pause, shuddering, breaths picking up. You look at him with wide eyes. The blush staining your cheeks deepens. Cute.

Quinn slips his thumb into your collar and tugs. He almost gets distracted with the goosebumps on your skin. Almost. Because there it is. The fourth mark. It’s just hiding under the edge. Still red and purple, the same shade as the other three. Still so beautiful on your skin. So fucking beautiful.

“Quinn?” you call, confusion etched in your face. “Did I lose you?”

Lose him? Never. You will never lose him. You’re stuck with him. He will chase you no matter where you go, stand beside you, hold your hands every step of the way.

You know that, but you’re still pouting. As second ticks, your confusion turns into annoyance. Your eyebrows furrow. You’re such a brat sometimes. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does. Your arms hook over his nape. The way your lips instantly part sends blood rushing down his groin. You’re always so eager, parting your thighs for his leg to step between.

“You ignored me,” you murmur, nipping at his lip. “You can’t ignore me.”

Fuck. That feels good.

“Not ignoring you. I heard everything you said,” Quinn whispers back in between kisses. “You know that, brat.”

He feels your smile, hears your giggle. He’s so fucked. Even that turns him on. With how your eyes shine, you know you had him in a chokehold. Well, he can have you in a chokehold too. Literally. So, he gives your neck a squeeze. A small whimper comes out your lips.

“Quinn.”

Your name spills out from his lips as a response.

You moan like he’s already fucking you, grinding your clothed cunt over his thigh. He pushes it up, letting you take all the friction you want.

When he goes for another kiss, your lips are already parted, tongue out, waiting for his. You beautiful siren. Quinn can’t hold in his growl as he meets it.

The kiss is sloppy, messy, and hungry. Your spits mixing. Your tongues lashing. Your teeth bumping and nipping each other’s lips. So different from the first one just a while ago. So different, yet utterly the same—full of love, lust, and devotion. So fucking good.

Quinn grinds his hard-on against you, raising his thigh to help you chase your high, but he stops. Not yet. You can’t come just yet. Your whines fill his ears as he parts from you. Tears threaten to spill as you try, try, and fucking try to get him to kiss you again. To get him to let you ride his thigh again. To get him to fuck himself on you.

You have to wait.

“Maybe,” he mutters against your lips, almost laughing when your tongue darts out to gaud him for another kiss. Little seductress. Quinn impatiently tugs on your sweatshirt. “Maybe you should get rid of this, yeah?”

He nearly preens when you nod—desperately and utterly wrecked. His hands shake as he helps you pull it off.

Fuck. You’re just wearing an almost-sheer crop top underneath. Your nipples are already taut, begging for him to touch, to kiss, to suck. Your low neckline showcases your beautiful skin littered with different shades of kiss marks. Some are old. Some are new. All his.

Yet. Not. Enough.

Not when there are still lots of blank spaces of skin to mark. Not when many of them are already fading. Not when you can still hide them. He doubts it will ever be enough. He just needs him on you.

His kiss marks.

Different from cum and spit which you—or he, depending on your mood—wash away.

Different from the occasional fingerprint bruises he leaves on your hips and thighs from holding you so tightly as he fucked you until you couldn’t stop cumming, until he’s left with watery cum or with nothing because your sweet pussy already sucked him dry.

Different because it shows the whole world how he worshipped you, your skin, your being.

Different but they always come one after another. He can’t have you all marked up with your pussy unsatisfied, can he? No. That’s not possible. An offence that he would rather die than commit.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes, grazing his knuckles over your ribs. His other hand tenderly holds our hips, keeping them pressed against his, not letting you do anything else. “So pretty.”

He nearly chokes on those words. He relishes the feel of your hands on his shoulders, fingers casually tugging the tips of his hair—a demand for him to stop fucking around.

Well, can you blame him for taking his time? He just loves you so much.

Then, your little tugs turn more desperate, fingers wrapping around his locks. You tug on his hair like you want to rip it off, but you would ease and scratch his scalp effectively seducing him.

But first, he needs to remedy his problem. He grips your arms, holding them against the wall, as he partakes on your skin. The way you surrender—when he starts sucking and adding marks on your neck, even craning it to give him more access—almost made him fall to his knees. Oh, he is essentially on his knees, because you are his love, his law, his Goddess. He is always kneeling for you. His existence is nothing without you now. He can only beg that you always be with him—of course, he will ensure that.

But he can’t be on his knees right now. How can he reach your neck then? How can he hold you up when you are melting with every suck and lick and kiss then?

Later, he can be on his knees. Later, when he needs to mark up your belly, your hips, your thighs, the creases between them that leads to your pussy, and your beautiful fucking ass. Later.

Right now, he needs to mark up your neck to show everyone—honestly, just him, fuck everyone else—that you are his and his alone.

[crsssie]

please? - jaime reyes x reader (nsfw warning)

Jaime pants, one brow furrowed, sweat dripping down his hair as he cages you in, lips pressed to yours feverishly, whimpering. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks you, sound of the bed creaking as he does. He's sure Khaji Da's mentioning his dopamine and endorphins levels are off the charts alongside his quickened heartbeat, but you're just so irresistible when you're whimpering his name like that. Besides, it's a great stress reliever and post-fight reward. Ugh. He pauses slightly, pushing his hair back as you exhale shakily.

"What? Tired already, mi amor?" You hum, lips quirked upward, expression changing as he thrusts into you again. 

"You're really chatty, mi vida." Jaime mumbles. "Maybe if you didn't look so good, I wouldn't stop to admire your beauty so often."

Jaime looks down as you clench on him from the compliment.

"You're such a womanizer, mi amor." You mumble. 

"Only you get to hear things like this." He hums, thumb finding your clit as he starts again, slower this time, holding you down as he forces you to feel every inch of you, eyes enamored as he watches himself disappear into you slowly, holding you down so you can't squirm.

"Jaime." You gasp. "Please."

"Please what, mi vida? You know you have to say it." He smiles cheekily.

"Harder? Please?" You try, voice coming out weak. 

"Of course." He presses a kiss to the corner of your eye. "All you had to do is ask."

and Jaime loves gently, a reminder that he was affectionate with you no matter the situation, skin pressed to yours, lips pressed to yours, fingers laced with yours— he was yours from the inside out.

[rotapathetic]

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐃 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 ┆ not so hidden 𖢖

reader catching david being violent with someone ᬬ davids other side isn’t as hidden as he thinks ᬬ

your steps slowed when you hear the whimpering. then your brow furrows when you hear the voice. david’s voice. he sounds angry? and why is there someone pleading with david not to hurt them?

you round the corner, coming to a halt at the sight in front of you. david, with his back turned to you, one fist holding a guy a few inches off of the ground by his shirt. the other first, poised in the air, angling to hit the guy.

“you know what’ll happen if you touch her again, right? do i need to remind you? is that bruise not enough, you want more?” david sounded manically. . joyous as he said the words. almost like he said them with a smile on his face that you couldn’t see.

the guy shook his head quickly, his head slightly moving to the side as david’s fist inched closer. “i don’t need your filthy hands touching my girl and tainting her. i oughta cut them off right here,” david lowered his fist to reach into his back pocket.

you quickly called out his name before he could reveal what he was reaching for. both of the boys turned to you. one, relieved to see you, the other, stumped.

david quickly let go of the boy’s shirt, taking a step back like he wasn’t just about to. . severely hurt the guy. he quickly moved his hand from his pocket, tossing an innocent smile your way. “hey, baby. i was just on my way to get you. this guy here,” david gestured to the trembling boy, “looked lost. was just trying to help him out.”

you couldn’t believe the lie that steered so far from what you just witnessed. david furrowed a brow, chest heaving from the anger he felt towards the guy and now seeing you, not sure how much you saw and how you’ll react. “why aren’t you still at school? were you walking home? why would you do that, i said i was getting you. just, just come back to my car. let’s get out of here.” david gestured his head towards where his car was parked.

you slowly shook your head, taking a step back. “i’ll walk. it’s fine.” you spun on your heels, deciding to take a different route. a route that didn’t involve david trying to stop you.

“no. .” you heard from behind you before your arm was snatched back, david pulling you toward him. “no, i’ll drive you. i don’t like you walking, it’s weird people out here. just get in the car.”

you turned your head towards david, movement behind him catching your eye. you looked over his shoulder to see the guy david was threatening, putting a phone up to his ear, nodding at you.

you swallowed, nervously looking back to david. “he’s calling the cops.” you whispered. david scrunched his face, looking back to the guy and letting go of you to rush over to him. you took that moment to run off.

david turned in time to see you fleeing the scene. he huffed out a breath, turning to the guy. he silently grabbed the phone, throwing it to the ground, and crushing it. “she just needs some time to herself. it’s fine. i’m not pressuring her. nothing is wrong.” he told the guy, or more so himself, then got into his car.

he drove to his place, actually giving you some time to yourself. after spending some time worrying his head about you, he decided to call. when you didn’t answer, he tried again. then again. were you ignoring him? david was quick to leave out again, driving to your place.

once he pulled up, he grabbed the spare key he had made from underneath the plant that sat outside of your front door. letting himself in, he wandered around looking for you.

spotting you in your room, david was methodical to sneak up behind you, grabbing you in a hold that you couldn’t escape from. you yelped out, david shushing you. “it’s just me. it’s just me. you weren’t responding to me and i got worried.” david spun you around in his arms. you peered up at him, not knowing what to say. first, he threatens a guy for touching you, which you don’t really remember, then gets into your house when the door was locked.

“i just. . i felt like walking. and you looked busy. .” you tried to explain. david smiled down at you. he shrugged. “wasn’t busy. i told you, he was lost. and i offered to drive you, you know i wasn’t busy. why’d you really walk off? why’d you ignore my calls? i told you what happened, why are you acting scared of me?” david rambled on, getting more aggressive after each sentence.

“david, i think you know why. .” you tried to slip from his arms. he was quick to tighten his grip though, pulling a confused face. “no, i don’t. i think you’re confused. you think you saw something that you didn’t. it’s fine. you know i wouldn’t hurt anyone. and i definitely wouldn’t hurt you. i just have to let people know sometimes. . that you’re off limits. i have to gently remind them, it’s nothing wrong with that.” david smiled softly again.

you nodded along, too scared to disagree or continue to try to make your point. you leaned forward into david for a hug, him immediately embracing you and sighing out at the touch of you. while he was distracted, you quickly reached into his back pocket, pulling out whatever he was reaching for earlier. when your hand returned with a switchblade in it, you simply gasped as you stared at it.

david was quick to snatch it back. “don’t touch that. you’ll hurt yourself.” he placed it back in his pocket.

with his arms free from around you, you took multiple steps back. “david, you were going to. . cut him? stab him? you threatened him with a knife.” your voice raised.

david shook his head at you, coming closer to kneel in front of you, grasping your arms and peering up at you. “i told you, i have to remind people. this guy just had to be reminded. . differently. he wasn’t listening. you understand that, right? you understand i can’t let people hurt you. you want to be with me, right? you want me to keep you safe? that’s how i do it. you can’t be mad at me for that. you can’t ignore me for that.” david sneered.

you slowly nodded as david rose to his full height. “yeah? you believe me? you done thinking those crazy thoughts?” he chuckled.

“yeah. . yeah, i’m sorry.” you whispered. what could you even say? he was proving to be a caring, protective boyfriend. why wouldn’t you appreciate him?

david smirked at you. “it’s alright, don’t apologize. just don’t ignore me again, okay?” the light smirk fell from his face. “i mean it, don’t do that to me again.”

[houseofpsychoticwomxn]

How about mean Simon accidentally making crybaby reader cry? He was being a little too snappy and hurt her feelings :((

this is so real cuz he’d have to learn to be more gentle in general with crybaby but he still slips up sometimes when he’s frustrated <//3

you weren’t doing anything particularly wrong. just squirming in his lap trying to get comfortable while he was retuning his guitar after one of his bandmates was messing with it — completely unbeknownst to you. unfortunately your inability to sit still right that second was incredibly distracting and kept throwing him off, resulting in him putting his unfinished work down and manhandling you off of him.

“simon.” a disappointed huff of his name and a pout might’ve done the trick another time, but he was already getting impatient both with himself and you so when you moved back over to him he snatched your hands from his chest.

“can’t you see this?” he looked pointedly at the bass still in his other hand and back at you. “i’m busy. you can sit over there quietly for a fuckin’ minute or you can go do something else, i really don’t care. just give me a break already, would you?” he was snappy and cold. he knew better than to be too harsh with you, but this time he couldn’t help it. he let go of your hands to get back to work, leaning back into the couch as you shuffled your way to your bedroom.

he came in a few minutes later, having had a few minutes to relax and think through his words, placing a hand on your back to let you know he was there as you were preoccupied with crying into your pillow. you didn’t look up at him though, turning your face away from him to wipe away the mascara tinted tears while he rubbed your back.

“im sorry, okay? i was frustrated, that’s all.” he sighed as you gave him a small nod, closing your eyes to focus on your breathing like he’d talked you through so many times.

“you gonna be okay?” you sat up then, cleaning your face with the back of your hands and nodding again as the burn in the back of your throat caught up with you before you could get a word out, two big hands open and waiting for your own to join.

“that’s my girl, come here.”

[tetzoro]

the calm before the storm or better known as early mornings with eustass kid. always sluggish to rouse out of bed, he is not known for rising with the sun that has long since awoken and hangs high in the sky.

perched up in his lap, you gently pinch his signature tube of lipstick between your thumb and forefinger. given the time of day, eustass is drowsy, sleepy. his half lidded eyes are set on you with a softness you can only find in the depths of the captains quarters.

the air is palpable as your faces grow closer, an intimate tension blooming as his soft breaths kiss the skin of your cheek in a surprisingly gentle caress. rare moments like these were to be cherished, your fingers lightly cupping his strong, unclenched jaw and faintly tilting his head heavenwards.

carefully, you drag the color along his plush lips, painting them with the fierce red he boldly wears everyday. his one hand soothingly rubs up and down your back in thanks before stealing a tender kiss to seal it in the for the day ahead and leave his stained mark on you.

a subtle yet effective way to show the crew who you belong to — despite everyone already knowing; it was hard not to. kid has never been quiet about anything a day in his life so of course you were no exception. just don’t go wiping off the lipstick too quickly unless you plan on dealing with an extra grumpy captain.

[puckinghischier]

thinking about how luke hughes is probably the best hugger known to man. like he is so large i just know his hugs would be like a big warm blanket around you making you forget anything that had you worried

“baby, what’s wrong?” Luke asked as you walked through the front door, shoulders rounded and a frown on your face.

“bad day, L” you responded, dropping your bag at the door and walking straight over to him, needing to feel one of his all encompassing hugs.

“hug, please?” you asked him, looking up at him.

he didn’t respond, but walked forward and wrapped his long arms around you, squeezing your body to his so tightly you felt like you would melt into him.

work had been rough lately, your duties increasing and your patience decreasing. you hadn’t had a day off in over a week, and you were so tired all you wanted to do was cry and then sleep. luke knew you’d been struggling lately. your coworkers were getting on your last nerve, management was making you madder by the day, and you just wanted time away from work, but despite your requests, they kept giving everyone else time off, but not you.

he wanted to be there for you, always trying to make sure the apartment was clean, the dishes were done, and dinner was either cooked and ready or a take out order was placed when you got home. on especially hard days, he even had a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you. but he couldn’t always be there.

with the new season quickly approaching, his training hours were increasing tremendously in anticipation of training camp starting. he was being pulled in a million different directions right now, not always there when you come home from a long day. those days were especially bad, because you had no relief from the shitty day when you got home, going and sulking on the couch instead.

luckily he was today, because all you wanted was him from the second your least favorite coworker started bitching at you today.

he rubs his hand up and down your back gently, the soothing motion causing you to close your eyes, somehow squishing yourself even further into him.

“i just don’t know how much longer i can do this, luke. i shouldn’t be feeling like this at the end of every day. i should be able to have at least one day to get away from that place and decompress, but they just won’t give me a day off,” you speak into his chest, not wanting to leave his warm embrace.

“you know i’ve told you i can take care of you, that you don’t have to keep working this job that’s killing you,” he responded, turning his head and laying his cheek on the top your head.

“and you know i’ve told you i can’t not work. you already pay for the apartment, i can’t let you pay for everything else by yourself too,” you remind him, having had this conversation several times in the last few months.

luke knows how you feel about him taking the biggest percentage of your shared bills, but he wishes you would just give in. he wants to provide for you, to give you the break that you so desperately need and deserve.

“i know, but it doesn’t have to be forever. quit this job and take a few months off before searching for another one. come to a bunch of my games this season and take some time to go back home and visit your family,” he suggests, knowing it’s been nearly a year since you last saw your them, not being able to get enough time off of work to make the trip home. “better yet, wait until next summer, then come spend it with us at the lake. or let me take you somewhere, just the two of us.”

he places a kiss to the hair on the top of your head, pulling back ever so slightly so you can lift your eyes up to meet his.

“i’ll think about it,” you appease him for the time being, not wanting to get into the full discussion right now. “right now i just wanna stay in this position for a little bit longer,” you move your head to bring your cheek to rest against his chest again, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne.

you feel the rumble of his small chuckle in his chest, squeezing you before whispering a small “jump” while sliding his hands down to grasp under your ass, picking you up and carrying you over to couch as you cling to him like a koala.

he lays his back on the couch, bringing your body down with his so you’re laying on top of him while his arms pin you to his torso. you relax yourself into him, wiggling around just slightly to make yourself comfortable.

luke brings a hand up to play with you hair, caressing the back of your head. you bring your own hands to rest behind his neck, twirling one especially long curl around your finger over and over again, the warmness of his body and the repeated motion of his hand smoothing down your hair lulling you into a half-sleep, half-awake state.

luke says nothing, just laying there and holding you, waiting on you to make the first move to get up. if it was up to you, though, you’d never leave from this position. wanting to live and die in one of luke’s hugs.

after luke feels your breath even out and soft snores start leaving your slightly open mouth, he moves his hand from your hair to rub your back again, wanting to give you time to rest before waking you up to eat dinner.

almost an hour later, you stir, causing luke’s movements to pause.

“how long was i out?” you rasp without moving.

“about an hour. was gonna wait a bit longer before seeing what you wanted for dinner,” he whispered, his lips resting right by one of your ears.

“cuddles,” you tell him, burrowing yourself further into his chest.

luke laughs at you again, stabilizing your head with a large hand, preventing you from shaking all over with his laughter.

“you gotta eat something, baby. not good to go to sleep on an empty stomach,” he scolds you, knowing if he didn’t get food in you soon, you’d wake up tomorrow with an empty belly and a hangry attitude.

“please don’t make me move, L. the longer i lay here the more i forget about why today was so bad in the first place,” you tell him, fisting his shirt to physically ground yourself to him.

luke’s heart swells at your words, face flushing while a grin breaks out on his relaxed face.

“okay, i’ll give you another thirty minutes, but that’s it. then we’re getting up and ordering something to eat. we also need to get your stinky ass in the shower,” he teases, pinching the soft, exposed flesh on your side from where your shirt was slightly raised from all of your wiggling earlier.

you yelp and squirm around on him, brining your legs to hook around both of his, making it to where he can’t stand up without taking you with him.

“we’ll see about that,” you challenge him, nuzzling your face into his chest, focusing on the sound of his heartbeat in his chest to lull you back to sleep.

when you wake up the next morning, in the same position on the couch as last night, your stomach immediately starts to growl, not letting you forget that you didn’t eat dinner last night after convincing luke to stay there with you all night.

you were short and snappy with him, poking his face so he can let go of you so you can go shower and change for work.

knowing you were likely just hungry from last night, he slips out and runs down to your favorite bagel place to grab you some breakfast, making it back before you ever even stepped foot out of the shower.

when you finally came out of the bathroom, half-dressed with tears in your eyes, luke was immediately concerned, walking over to wipe the pooling tears and ask what was wrong.

“i can’t find my favorite blouse and i don’t want to wear another one. i could’ve swore i had washed it and hung it up, but i can’t find it, so now i’m going to look like an idiot at work all day,” you sniffle, still emotional from the previous work day.

luke assured you he’ll help you find it, but when he pulls it out of the dirty laundry hamper you almost go over the edge, mad at yourself that you didn’t wash it.

your tears quickly turn to angry ones, telling him to forget it, you’ll just find something else and then slam the door to your bedroom in his face.

when you come out in a very similar looking blouse to the one you wanted, he can still sense the hostility in your actions and attitude.

he slowly walks over to you as you unwrap your bagel, getting a little too frustrated when the wrapper is stuck to the cheese, this one piece of wax paper refusing to separate from the bagel.

tears start to spill over your eyes, causing luke to rush to your aid, tearing off the stubborn piece of paper.

“thank- thank you,” you speak softly through a hiccup.

“what else can i do to help you?” he asks, not wanting to send you off to work already in a state of unease.

“hug me?” you look at him with a pout, making luke laugh at the never ending cycle, but feeling the same about hugging him as you do, never wanting to step away from the warm blanket of comfort both of you create in these moments.